


Losing My Religion

by SilverSnake15



Category: Original - Fandom
Genre: Bisexual Character, Gen, Lucid Dreaming, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 18:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6998989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSnake15/pseuds/SilverSnake15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My brief trip into my mind, down into Hell, and through Paradise, wherever that may be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing My Religion

A woman displayed her flawless, beautiful leg to me, gently pointing her toe to model. Curious, I gently ran my fingers down her skin, and was amazed by how wonderfully smooth it was. Then, a different woman came up and stuck her leg out as well. I giggled, thinking that I had somehow been lucky enough to stumble upon a private strip show. 

What an idiot. Just as I reached out for the second woman, both of them disappeared and I was in my room again. Some strange appendages like feet or toes suddenly grabbed my sheets, with me sandwiched in between them, and dragged me under my desk.

I woke up with a start, terrified. I tried to call for my mom, but I could hardly breathe. After a few seconds of gasping for air, I finally managed it. And after almost an entire minute, she came in.

"Is something wrong?" she asked sleepily.

" _YES._ " This wasn't the first time I had woken up from eerily realistic nightmares. Add that to a history of bad anxiety, hearing voices when I got deprived of sleep, and especially shitty manic-depression, and you get (*surprise*) me. So I got up and went to her room. My dad was sleeping in a different room for his own reasons, which left a whole side of the California King for my entire five feet and one inch of chubbiness. A pillow was already lying in place.

The paranoia and trembling from my most recent nightmare kept me awake for less than an  hour. Then I succumbed to the fluffiness of the cold sheets and squishy pillow under my head. I began having quick dreams of strange Technicolor-type characters on posters and of walking through a quiet carnival with my friends from school. Each time, I was aware that I was dreaming.

I had taught myself how to lucid dream about five years prior, having become bored of my plain, confusing dreams. I'd been interested in psychology for years, so I had some understanding of the subconscious and sleep interpretation. Well, just as much as any teenager with a computer might believe themselves to. I read up on lucid dreaming on multiple websites, which was a way to become aware of one's own dream state while in said dream. I quickly mastered it, learning how to summon weapons and change the plot of my dreams with ease. I was a badass, until it all spiraled out of control. I got to a point where my dreams were so realistic, I could no longer always distinguish my dreams from reality.

So, afraid that each dream might become a nightmare, I kept waking myself up. Eventually, I got so tired that I was forced into a dream, so to speak. I was in a motel room, sitting with my mom, grandma, a random old lady, and the guy from State Farm insurance commercials/the original Spider-Man movies (J.K. Simmons, according to Google). Mr. Simmons was adjusting an old TV set's antenna, trying to get me to focus. 

Once I did, all hell broke loose. Random shit flew in through the window, and everyone started screaming. Something in the recesses of my mind told me that it was their greatest fears come to life. I cowered, not sure if a rude, sexy person or an insane murderer was about to appear next.

Instead, it was rats. And not even the semi-scary real ones. They were cartoon ones that joined together to form one 'big one' that was maybe two feet tall. I huffed and tossed it back out the window, closing the shutters.

"Good work," Simmons said, "Now break that." He pointed to a weird ceramic mask. I broke it, then saw a figurine of a caricature Devil, not more than a few inches tall.

"Can I break that too?" He nodded, so I tossed it to the ground, where it shattered.

The next part is a blur. All I know is, I ended up talking to an older man, who was maybe approaching seventy. We sat in a plain office, with a few small tables and a computer that must've come out just when those boxy white PCs had been invented. A black staircase led down to a mansion with red interior walls, and large windows put the streets of some big city on display. Oh, by the way, I was talking to an older man, who was the Devil.

We had a long talk. He basically told me that God created the gods of the ancient pantheons, making nearly every existing religion true. God stung him with a lightning bolt, so he apologized and started ordering food online, occasionally mentioning my mental issues. Finally I snapped and demanded to know what was wrong with him. He chuckled, saying that he happened to enjoy torturing the damned, but other than that, he had made all the same mistakes I had. He drew two lines on my hand as a coupon for a good afterlife, mumbling something about all the gods being the same before handing me a paper to leave.

I thanked him, and went outside to the city. The sky was a clear, bright blue, and there was no wind to disturb the calm weather. I saw my friends walking across the sidewalk, some taking pictures like they were on a field trip. My family wasn't too far away, and I talked to my brother before I woke.

It later occurred to me that, though I dreamt these things, I could have been allowed a glimpse into what comes next—the "true afterlife", so to speak. Damnation took place in a large building that I only saw a fraction of, and paradise was a large city full of people, where the only notable figures were the people I loved (some of whom I hadn't seen in years). Though I already refused to adhere to one of the world's major religions, this experience has made me realize two truths: the most horrendous fear is that of the unknown, and truth is merely a change in perspective.


End file.
